Hope and Her Messiah
by KentuckyTheFried
Summary: Hope is called in to help Pongo after he goes through a Bad Time. Takes places after Eyes, but there are no spoilers, just angst


After a long day of helping clients, Hope is happy to have the night to herself. Taking in a breath of fresh air, she gazes up at the stars as she walks along the roads of the residential district. Her weapons are not on her tonight; rather, she wants this to be a peaceful night, void of any conflict or violence. She finds herself humming to one of her favorite songs, The Way, as her feet pad along the sidewalk.

Suddenly, her comm device buzzes in her back pocket. Who could be calling her at this hour? Hope slides it out, answering the call. Elma's voice rings loud and clear, with pure authority - and worry? Hope listens closely to her message.

"Hope, I hate to disturb whatever you might be doing. But Pongo...I think he had another one of his episodes. And it's bad this time."

"You're not disturbing me, Elma." She knew she'd be doing whatever Elma asked of her after Pongo's name was mentioned. But an episode? She thought that he could control those! Hope adds on to her response, "Where is he? I'll see what I can do to help."

"Inside the barracks. Lin and I will give you some room to work."

"That might be best. Thank you, Elma, I'll be right there." Hope hangs up, placing her device back in her pocket. With a deep sigh, she redirects herself to head to the elevator leading up to the Administrative District. Once on board, she exchanges a friendly wave with a client passing her by before heading up a few levels. After reaching the top, it's only a short walk to the barracks - though it would've been shorter, if Hope hadn't said hello to everyone she saw.

Once inside the barracks, she notices that Elma and Lin aren't there, keeping to their word. However, as Hope steps inside, she doesn't see Pongo. Did he leave? She makes her way inside, glancing inside the kitchen. The room is completely empty, she concludes - until she hears a very faint noise coming from the Skell hangar.

She proceeds down the ramp, and careful not to touch the parked Skells, she peers behind each individual one. As she comes to Pongo's Skell, a brilliant blue and purple Lailah, she finally sees him, curled up into the corner. His face is red, and his cheeks look damp with tears. He sniffles every once in a while, and once his eyes meet hers, his gaze melts, bearing unborn tears.

"Pongo?" Hope asks quietly.

He doesn't respond. She decides to duck underneath the Skell to sit by his side. Though the space is cramped, she makes no move to suggest that it bothers her. When she is this close to him, the scent of freshly brewed coffee is overwhelming.

"Pongo, I'm here for you if you want to talk," She starts off, "Elma's worried sick about you."

Again, no response. If anything, she sees that he has burrowed his head deeper into his knees, trying to avoid talking to her.

"Pongo, it's not good to keep this bottled up. I'm here for you. I want to help."

Nothing. Hope decides to take a somewhat drastic measure.

"You've gotten through so many things before. What's different this time? Where's the resilient Pongo that I've come to know?"

Nothing. She lets out a sigh, reaching to place her hand on his shoulder.

"Before we met...did you know that I really wanted to meet you? I heard so much about your strength, your talent...but there were two reasons I wanted to meet you. One, because I thought that you could teach me to be strong, like you. The second, because I didn't want you to go through life without having anyone to talk to."

Nothing.

"I know you feel alone. But trust me, you're not. Please, tell me what I can do. You know I don't like seeing you like this."

Nothing.

But Hope feels as though she has said too much. So she doesn't follow up. Sometimes, she decides, silence is a better comforter.

But eventually, it is the silence that consumes her, and she leans her head on Pongo's shoulder, falling asleep. Pongo's tears have dried, so as he turns towards the sleeping Hope, he forms a weak grin.

And finally, he speaks.

"Thank you."

No response. He closes his eyes, his grin unwavering. So as the night stretched on, Hope and her Messiah rested peacefully under the protection of an empty Skell.

Pongo could ask for nothing more.

Nothing.


End file.
